Look to the End
by Sanguinary Tears
Summary: The night Sweeney kills Judge Turpin, he is reunited with Lucy. But Lucy will have nothing to do with him for all the blood he has shed. She leaves him. And the only things left for him are Mrs. Lovett, Toby and the English Channel


_Look to the End_

Few things had enough influence to bewilder the Demon Barber of Fleet Street, and this is one of the few exceptions. He could not believe his eyes; she was alive and standing before him dressed in rented rags and with a startled countenance. The razor he had deemed his faithfully and beloved _friend_ slipped from his quivering hands and cluttered to the blood-stained floor. She was alive! That was the only thing he cared about. Disarmed of his beloved razor, Sweeney Todd approached the beggar woman who in truth was revealed to be none other than his dear sweet Lucy.

Lucy recoiled away from him, but she was seized into his arms and was pressed to him in a tender way. He kissed her cheek and savored her warmth against his cold flesh. How long he had dreamed, yearned, for fifteen years that he would get to feel his Lucy in his arms again! She wasn't dead. Mrs. Lovett had lied to him, the wretched woman! She knew, yet she had hid the truth from him for the past few months. How dare she do such a thing?

No matter, he thought dismissively, there was no need to worry about it anymore. He had Lucy and that was all that matter to him now. Mrs. Lovett's deceiving him would be forgotten. He could spare her that much. Sweeney nuzzled his cheek against hers and ran his fingers through her tangled locks of dull gold careful of not hurting her.

His lips rested against her ear as he whispered, "My dear sweet Lucy! You're alive, you're alive!" His hatred, his thirst for vengeance faded away and was replaced with joy and gratitude. They had been brought together again by the same ill-fate that had separated them so cruelly; and soon when Johanna arrived they would return to being a family. Yes, a true family. Lucy, however, did not share the same zealousness her husband did.

All traces of insanity that had been caused by the arsenic left her pale blue eyes, and in the place of insanity were comprehension and a sharp glint of alertness. She placed her hands on her husband's blood-stained jacket and shirt and pushed forcefully away from him, startling Sweeney in the process. She looked sharply at him with unrestrained accusation that almost appeared to be disgust in his eyes.

With her rented gloved hand, she raised her fingers to her cheek and felt the warm texture of freshly slain blood on her dirty cheek. She looked from the crimson marring her fingers to her husband, her eyes full of knowledge and horror.

"Benjamin how could you? Just what have you become?" Lucy whispered all the while staring into Sweeney's dark eyes.

Sweeney halted and was taken aback by her accusing words. He had never imaged Lucy's first words to him would be anything like the ones she just spoke.

"Lucy…" He could say no more then her name. What could he say? Would she understand why he had done what he had done? He deemed it worth a shot to explain if only to clear the doubt she had for him and to reassure himself of his own motives.

"What have I become? I never dreamed you would greet me with those words, Lucy. Are you not as content to see me as I am to see you?" He asked almost pleadingly. She stood faintly in the pool of the judge's vile blood while he had his back to the door. Sweeney made no other attempts to approach her; he knew she would run away if he did.

"Content? How can you expect me to be content Benjamin if I am greeted with the sight on my own husband bathe in the blood of a murdered man! Look at yourself Benjamin." She cried feverishly tears rolling freely down her tinted red cheeks.

Sweeney slowly looked from her to the cracked mirror and saw what caused her horror. He was bathed in blood like she had said; his entire face, unruly hair and body were covered in the crimson substance that had once belonged to Judge Turpin. He looked back to her uncertainly.

"He was not innocent, Lucy. The bastard deserved to die for what he did to us…what he did to you. I could not let him get away with any of it! He had to pay with his life." Sweeney began so desperately to make her understand that it had all been necessary.

"And what of the others you murdered like cattle, Benjamin? What of them, did they as well deserve to die simply because you could not control yourself and the urge for blood? What is to say that you would not kill me or Johanna? What assurance could you give us now that all the blood you have recently shed is sufficient to seduce your thirst for blood?" By this time her tears of woe streamed down her cheeks unabashedly.

The man before her was not the man she had once loved with all her heart. No, her dear sweet Benjamin was no more. He was dead, just like Sweeney had said when he had returned from earthly hell, and was transformed in to the current Sweeney Todd_—_the Demon Barber of Fleet Street. A man devoid of heart and only driven by hatred and vengeance. He executed his frustration and malevolence on the innocent who were ignorant of their fate when they entered his shop and requested a shave. But instead of a shave, they were granted a one way ticket to their end.

If there had still been any traces of the Benjamin she had once known, all hope had been washed away from so much bloodshed and dispassion. Benjamin Barker was no more, and he would never be recalled to life no matter how hard she prayed and cried to the heavens. He had lost himself on his own accord.

"They all deserved to die, Lucy." Sweeney countered sternly.

She heard him and gave a bitter laugh which made him look at her in sheer bewilderment. This was still the same Lucy from fifteen years ago, he was sure of it, but like he, the years had changed them both. Life had been cruel to them, but no amount of callousness could change his feelings for her. She was the only woman he loved, adored to the point of self-sacrifice if required for her sake. Her acidic laughter caused him pain. How could she doubt him? How could she assume he would hurt her or Johanna, the only two he loved and treasured? How could she?

"Benjamin, we are no one to deem who has a right to live or die. But what you did, you were merely practicing your skills on unaware men who happened to have only come to you for a shave, not an execution." Lucy returned noxiously to her own husband.

Sweeney's handsome countenance (made more beautiful when painted with blood) was contorted into a pained expression. Her tone was no longer delicate as it had once been. Her words were like a razor slitting his throat. He had lost her after endeavoring so hard to avenge her alleged death. She was right; he had practiced on in his clienteles' throats, but no one would miss them, he made sure of that. They had been but broken spirits, forgotten by all and missed by none. He was doing them a favor. At least that was his excuse.

"No one would miss them, Lucy! If anything I was doing them a favor in putting 'em out of their misery." Sweeney exclaimed forgetting entirely about keeping his voice down. The dead no longer hear so what was there to be cautious about?

"And that makes it more justified?" She asked, shaking her head gloomily. "No, you're wrong, Benjamin."

Benjamin…the name didn't sound right anymore when she addressed him by it. It was like she was talking to a strange now when she uttered it. Sweeney's eyes twinkled with melancholy and agony and small hints of anger.

"All of this I did for you, Lucy. I did this because I love you!" He hissed impulsively. Why could she not understand? Was she just toying with him? He went to her, aware she stepped away from him. His entire frame trembled from all the emotions that threatened to overpower him in the instance of dispair.

Lucy made for the door, but he caught her wrist firmly and spun her around so she was gazing into his eyes. His anger seemed to subdue with her so close and he repeated quietly, "I love you…Lucy." His words were below a whisper. His usually impassive and hard eyes were glassy and it was his turn to feel the sting of tears. To his horror, Lucy shook her head and pulled her hand out of his grasp and threw open the door to leave.

Before she did, she spared him two last sentences that would for ever haunt him till the day he died.

"You are not my husband, _Mr. Sweeney Todd_. You murdered the man who was and transformed him into a monster." Lucy disappeared into the night, leaving behind a shattered Sweeney staring after her.

_Lucy…_His mind said her name. Sweeney dropped to his knees and buried his face in his bloody hands. He silently wept into his hands, oblivious to the wretched world around him until Mrs. Lovett's blood-curdling scream arouse him from his merciless trance. Sweeney hastily leaped to his feet and snatched his discarded razor before running down the stairs and into the furnace room to see what had happened.

When he made it down the stairs leading to the furnace room he saw that Mrs. Lovett was doing battle with a refusing to die Judge Turpin. He was clenching on to the hem of her dress, Mrs. Lovett was kicking him in a frantic way to get free. Sweeney tightened his grasp on his razor and stalked over and dealt a vicious kick to the Judge's head, and still he was not done. He had to release some of the anger that was trapped within him from what had occurred moments before.

He knelt down and yanked the Judge by the hair and sliced his razor deeply into the already slit throat of his enemy until he met bone. When no more large amounts of crimson erupted from his throat, and he was sure as hell that the bastard was dead for good, Sweeney removed his razor and stood erect. He stared viciously at the Judge with a heaving chest and a wild look in his eye that made Mrs. Lovett take a step back.

She had no idea what had transpired in the barber's shop moments ago, but she could only guess it had something to do with Lucy.

"Mr. T…" Mrs. Lovett whispered timidly.

Upon hearing his name escape her lips, Sweeney looked up from the dead body and shot her a callously glance that made her gasp. He remembered Mrs. Lovett had known the truth from the beginning and had not told him. A wicked smirk tugged the corners of his lips. She needed to learn her lesson for being so sly.

"Mrs. Lovett, my pet. You knew Lucy was not dead, didn't you? You knew yet you did not tell me. Why!" He growled sinisterly. Mrs. Lovett was forced to take another step back from fear of his rage and of his razor.

"Why didn't you tell me Lucy was still alive? Answer me, damn it!" Sweeney shouted and seized her by the shoulders and shook her violently until he was sure all she could see was blurry. A small yelp of pain escaped her when his nails and edge of the razor bit into her delicate flesh. She closed her eyes and pleaded for him to stop.

"Stop? No my love, not until you answer me!" He exclaimed vehemently. Mrs. Lovett opened her eyes and was close to crying.

"Why? Why?" He kept on repeating the word until he shoved her away and turned his back to her, unable to control himself anymore. Lucy was gone. It was the only thought that plagued and tortured his mind. And her words…they hurt more then any physical wound could never produce.

Mrs. Lovett barely saved herself from falling to the floor. His words made sense to her. He had discovered Lucy was still alive, and judging by the hurt in his voice, things between them had not fared so well for them. That foolish Lucy must have hurt her Mr. Todd. Mrs. Lovett collected herself and hesitantly rested her hand on his quivering shoulder.

Sweeney felt her hand on his shoulder and said quietly, "You knew this would be her reaction if she ever found out. You knew she would cease loving me for all the blood I shed." It was a statement.

"I did, Mr. Todd. A woman like Lucy would never understand the risks you took for 'er sake, love." Sweeney looked at the woman who had remained so loyal to him even though he had been cold and aloof with her.

A dry smile crept to his lips and he muttered, "You're a bloody wonder, Mrs. Lovett."

Mrs. Lovett blushed and adverted her eyes, her cheeks burning red. Mr. Todd hardly said such considerate things to her so with more reason did she blush like a school girl. Sweeney laughed dryly when he saw she was embarrassed. His smirk died as he allowed his eyes to study her. There was so much he had failed to notice in her. Silently he observed she was a beautiful woman in a subtle fashion.

He never would have thought that he would be associating such a word with Mrs. Lovett, but he could not deny the truth. She was beautiful, and what was more, she was the only person he had left. Lucy had left him, Johanna was gone forever, and so all that was left for him was Mrs. Lovett and perhaps even Toby.

Without thinking, Sweeney turned around and cradled Mrs. Lovett's chin in his hand and brought her face close to his. He heard her gasp and felt her warm breath against his face. He smiled, finding her astonishment amusing. He wrapped his arm around her waist and kissed her. When he pulled away Mrs. Lovett opened her eyes and gaped dreamily at him.

"Does this mean when can live by the sea just like we planned on doin', Mr. T?" Mrs. Lovett asked him. He released her and wiped his razor clean before he answered her impassively, yet smirked chillingly.

"Aye, it does Mrs. Lovett; the two of us and the boy_—_if he's willing to come." Sweeney said evenly. Toby had heard him and decided to ascend from the sewers to confront them. Mrs. Lovett smiled kindly at the boy and gestured for him to come. Sweeney placed the razor in his holster and said, "Come on, lad. We're leavin' now before we're surrounded."

"Yes, Mr. T, mum. Are we really goin' to the sea! I've never been to the sea, mum. What's it like?" Toby asked excitedly. Mrs. Lovett began to tell him all that she knew about the sea and described it as if she had been there before. Sweeney led the way up the stairs from the furnace room and into the pie shop. He stopped when he saw Anthony and a young lad behind him. Mrs. Lovett nearly collided into him, but Toby held her back.

"Ah, Mr. Todd! What on earth happened to you, sir? You're covered in blood!" Anthony stated the obvious. Sweeney stared at the lad who was hiding behind his back curiously. He could see a golden lock tumble from under the cap he wore. He ignored Anthony's exclamation and removed the cap from the boy's head and gasped. He turned out to be a she with remarkable hair as gold as wheat.

"You have your mother's hair." Sweeney whispered hoarsely. The poor girl was frightened by his action, but his comment tamed her nerves. She looked quizzically into the barber's eyes and frowned.

"Do I know you, sir?" She asked softly. She even had her mother's delicate voice. She was a living image of Lucy. Sweeney was going to say yes, that he did know her because he was her father, but shook his head. He stepped away from her dejected.

"No, you do not know me. Forgive my brazenness and if I frightened you, miss." He muttered blandly.

Anthony stepped in between them; the boy was clearly excited beyond reason.

"Mr. Todd I wanted to thank you for everything you've done for us. I will forever be in your debt, sir." Anthony said.

"Where will you being goin' from 'ere, Anthony?" Mrs. Lovett asked. Sweeney said nothing; he was too engrossed looking somewhere else, anywhere else besides them.

"America, Mrs. Lovett where we will be able to begin a new life." He explained. Mrs. Lovett smiled at him and wished them both luck. Anthony faced Sweeney, who still refused to look at them.

"This is good bye, Mr. Todd. I wish you this best, sir." Anthony said sincerely. He gently grasped Johanna's wrist and they hurried away to the docks to catch their ship. Sweeney finally lifted his eyes and briefly locked eyes with Johanna. She smiled at him before she was gone. The night had not been as fruitless as he had thought. He had been reunited with his wife and daughter for an ephemeral time, but it was enough. And he had gotten his revenge. That was all he wanted.

"Mr. T, are you goin' to be alright, love?" It was a silly question to ask, but she wanted to make sure he was fine. Sweeney composed himself and answered, "There's nothing to worry about, my pet." There was no more reason for him to be forlorn. Now the only thing that was left for the three of them was the English Channel and the incessant blue sky and the gentle salt breeze. Life by the sea wouldn't be as horrible as he mused. Perhaps he could even open up a small barber's shop and continue his trade. After all, everyone needed a shave.

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_I'm so sorry about the occ-ness! I hope this was still good and that you enjoyed it. Thank you for reading, please review! _


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